


Strength

by Rose_of_Pollux



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen, the children's day affair
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-05
Packaged: 2019-03-14 08:40:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13586415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_of_Pollux/pseuds/Rose_of_Pollux
Summary: Takes place during *that* scene from “The Children’s Day Affair.” Napoleon knew he was throwing away his chances of escape by stopping to help Illya. Part of him was counting on it.





	Strength

Contrary to what Mother Fear had thought, Napoleon Solo had known exactly what he was doing when he had found Illya moaning in pain in that THRUSH cell and decided to stop and help him. Napoleon had known that he was forfeiting a chance of escape to help his wounded partner.

Nothing else mattered right now other than helping Illya. How THRUSH could even think that Napoleon would have considered abandoning his partner, even for a minute, would have been laughable had the situation not been so dire. Did THRUSH really not know anything about him?

He wasted no time, of course; he used explosives to open the cell door and reach his partner’s side.

“What’s the matter?” he had asked, softly, and Illya hadn’t even been able to reply. All the Russian could do was to look up weakly, glance back at him, and have a faint look of relief cross his face at last as he lay back down on the cot to let Napoleon treat him, clearly exhausted by his ordeal.

Slowly, Napoleon lifted the back of Illya’s shirt, frowning as he saw the purple bruises from where Illya had been hit with fists, and bleeding, open wounds from where he had been whipped.

Napoleon didn’t say a word as he began to clean Illya’s bleeding wounds. Illya winced, but didn’t resist or insist that he was fine, as he usually did. That was Napoleon’s second clue that something was very wrong—his partner’s moaning had been the first clue that the normally unshakable Russian had been suffering.

In addition to that, what had struck Napoleon most was the brief flicker of fear in Illya’s eyes before he realized that it had been Napoleon with him. Illya didn’t frighten easily, nor did he normally try to let on that he was in any pain; so, what had he been through to react in such a way—unable to keep from expressing the fear and pain he would normally be able to suppress? What had they done to him!?

With each moment that ticked by, Napoleon knew that there was no chance of him getting out of here; oh, he would try, and he would try to take Illya out of here with him, but he knew that they wouldn’t get far.

At this point, there was a part of him that didn’t _want_ to get far—it was a part of him that only rarely showed itself, and, subsequently, it was a part of him that frightened him the most.

For even the most kind and good-natured man like Napoleon had his limits, and THRUSH had crossed them by hurting his partner like this—not just his physical self, but his spirit, as well.

Nevertheless, he wanted to get Illya out of here, and so he made an attempt—helping his partner to his feet and trying to ease him out of the cell—only to be met by the THRUSH guards ready to take him prisoner now, as well.

Again, Napoleon didn’t say a word as he was taken captive with his partner. THRUSH thought they were trying to teach lessons in this academy of theirs? Fine—they were about to be schooled.

He would spare the children, of course—and hope there would be a way to undo the THRUSH brainwashing. But the adults? They would not see the mercy that Napoleon normally showed his enemies.

His love and compassion for Illya was _not_ a weakness.

And THRUSH was about to learn that the hard way.


End file.
